The Storm
by elvenrarehunter
Summary: This was a response to a challenge I found somewhere. The objective was to show Norrington in a good light. Please R


**Innocence**

Written By elvenrarehunter

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_A/N: This was a response to a challenge that I found somewhere to write a one-shot showing our dear Commodore in a good light. I hope I accomplished the task. Lemme know what you think._

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The wind howled and wailed as the storm drew closer. The streets were nearly empty. Those left in the streets hurried past closed and locked doors to find a place where they could seek temporary shelter from the storm. One man in particular drew attention to himself. His name was well known and even feared in the port town. He was Commodore James Norrington. 

He pulled his naval uniform around him as he barked at the people left in the streets to find shelter. They quickened their pace at his command. The wind picked up, moaning as it wound through the streets. He pulled his jacket closer. He was nearly home where he could have some nice hot coffee to remove the chill caused by this wretched storm. He was nearly to his front gate when he heard a small voice.

"Sir," it called. He looked around, unsure if it had been the wind playing tricks on him. He was forced to believe it however when something tugged on his coat. He looked down to see a small girl no older than four. She had dull blonde hair that looked tangled and bright blue eyes that seemed to plead with him. "I want papa. Where is papa?" she begged him for the answer. He looked around as the wind shrieked, picking up its speed.

"I don't know," the commodore answered over the fierce winds. "He's probably found shelter from the storm already. You should too."

"Please, sir," she said, barely audible, "I have nowhere to go." The commodore looked at his home and sighed. He held out a hand to the little girl and she placed her tiny palm in his. They reached the front door as it began to rain. He walked in, hanging his slightly wet coat on a hook that waited just inside the door. The little girl stepped forward, clearly in awe of the large estate. The corners of his mouth twisted themselves into a slight smile. He glanced over at the person who had just entered the room.

"Ah, good afternoon, sir," he said. He was obviously someone who worked at the estate. His clothes were sopping wet. "Ghastly weather."

"Indeed," he said. The young man smiled.

"David just got in. He was out helping the cook with something. I think he might be sick, sir," he said, his face losing the smile. Norrington nodded.

"I'll send for the doctor when the storm lets up. You should get yourself cleaned up, Jonathan," he said, noting the dirt and mud caked on his hands. David brightened again.

"Thank you, sir," he said, walking past the girl, who was hiding behind a curtain. Norrington motioned for the girl to follow him and he walked into the kitchens, a place he rarely went, unaware that the girl had not followed him. He frightened the cook when he tapped her on the shoulder. She was a portly woman. She placed a hand to her heart.

"Goodness, sir, you gave me a turn," she said, flustered.

"Terribly sorry, Millie," he said. "Any coffee prepared?"

"I think there's a fresh pot brewing now. I'll send a cup out with Jonathan when he gets cleaned up," she said.

"And do you have any chocolate?" he asked. The cook looked at him quizzically.

"Er…yes sir," she said, reaching into one of the cupboards and taking out a small slab of fresh chocolate. He took it and thanked her walking back out into the parlor. The cook looked at one of her helpers.

"Since when has the Commodore liked chocolate?"

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The commodore sat down in front of a roaring fire in a high-backed chair. He looked at the little girl, who was on her knees with her hands folded politely in her lap in front of the fire. She was staring into its depths. He cleared his throat and she looked at him. 

"Would you like some chocolate?" he asked. The girl's eyes lit up.

"Yes please, sir," she said. He held the chocolate he had gotten from the cook out to her and she squealed with delight. She took it from him and took a piece. She turned it over in her hand and ate it, savoring it. They sat in silence for a few moments.

"What's your name?" he asked. She looked at him and swallowed the bite of chocolate she had been eating.

"Gabrielle," she answered. "I have a brother too. His name's Gabriel. We're twins." She smiled as she thought of her brother. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?" He paused for a moment, remembering the fond times he spent with his siblings back in England. She cocked her head. "Sir?"

"Mm? Oh, yes. I had a large family. There was my mother, my father, my four sisters, my two brothers, and I," he answered. Memories came flooding back to him.

"I don't remember mama," she said simply, as if she was stating the weather. She yawned, stretching. Norrington watched her as she curled up in front of the fire and began to fall asleep. He picked her up and carried her to his room, putting her into the bed and covering her up. He pushed the hair out of her face and walked out of the room. Jonathan walked into the parlor just as the commodore reentered.

"Here's your coffee, sir," he said, smiling.

"Everything holding well?" he asked, taking the coffee from Jonathan.

"I believe so," he said. "Haven't heard about anything getting too damaged. It's getting late, sir. You should get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be a long day." The commodore nodded, but did not make a move to leave. He sipped his coffee and walked over to the fire, settling into a chair in front of the fire. He watched the fire and drank his coffee contemplatively. The first order of business tomorrow would be to find the girl's father. He set his coffee on the table and began to think of other things that had to be accomplished tomorrow. He let himself drift off to sleep with these thoughts buzzing in his head.

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The floor was cold on the woman's bare feet. The house was dark, but that didn't give the woman any trouble. She seemed a bit out of place in the house. She had golden hair that fell straight to her shoulders and then curled at the ends. She had fair, unblemished skin with rosy lips. Her eyes were a cool slate blue. She wore a white dress that fell to just above the floor. 

She wandered down the halls and peeked in the different rooms. She stopped when she reached the parlor, smiling at the man who had fallen asleep in the chair. She silently walked over and sat down on the arm of the chair, regarding him as a mother would her child. He looked tired and she could sense something deeper, as if he had been forced to grow up too fast. She ran a pale hand over his face and he stirred slightly. She got up and took a blanket from the backs of one of the chairs and laid it over him. The fire had long since extinguished itself without anyone to tend to it. She glanced at the clock above the mantle and noticed it was nearing midnight. She said a silent prayer over the sleeping man and unfurled a pair of gossamer, iridescent wings. She disappeared into the night.

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The commodore awoke and it took him a moment to realize where he was. He got up, letting the blanket fall to the floor. He realized it was late morning. He cursed himself for oversleeping. Jonathan walked in with a cup of coffee. 

"Good morning Commodore," he said. You were feverish, so I brought the doctor. Mister Gillette is assessing the damage from the storm. He told you to get well soon," he said. The doctor's in looking at David. He'll be here soon." The commodore nodded. He walked into the kitchens. Millie looked up

"What can I do for you, sir?" she asked.

"Did a little girl come in here?" he asked. Millie gave him a look.

"What little girl?" He shook his head and walked away, the girls in the kitchen gossiping behind him. Jonathan and the Doctor met him as he walked back into the parlor.

"Good morning, Commodore," the doctor said jovially.

"Good Morning, Bill," he said. He turned to Jonathan. "Did you see a little girl anywhere?" Jonathan looked at him strangely and shook his head.

"No, sir."

"She was there last night when you came in from the rain," he said. Jonathan cast the doctor a look that said he was clearly concerned for the Commodore's health.

"I don't remember seeing her, sir," he said. The commodore pushed past the doctor and Jonathan and made his way up to the door. He was going to show them she was here. He pushed the door open, but was greeted with an empty room. The bed was tidily made, as if it had never been used. There was no evidence of the little girl's presence.

All that was left was a little glass angel on his pillow.

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_I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think. No flames please, but Constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated_


End file.
